


Quiet Talks

by orphan_account



Series: Connor Copes with Deviancy [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Artist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Friendship, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has PTSD, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) is Bad at Feelings, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor has a mental breakdown, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-10 23:53:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20536724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Connor has a mental breakdown and Markus seems to be the only one who can help lmaocan be taken romantically but I wrote it as a homies help homies kinda thing





	Quiet Talks

Markus’ eyes blinked open of their own accord. His sensors, booting up and continuing their normal starting sequence after coming out of rest mode, scanned and analyzed the room quickly and lazily. It was just a formality at this point, anyway- he knew where he was. He knew where he’d be the next night. And even if it wasn’t in his room at New Jericho, he’d be somewhere familiar. This reassurance settled his nerves if he had any to be settled and let him fully take in that he was awake. He was alive. After everything, he still woke up every day. This was good. He sighed and sat up, scooting back and leaning against the backboard of his bed. Above him hung many of Carl’s old paintings and some new ones of Markus’ own creation. The room, once dull and brown and boring and now filled with color and with love, always brought a smile to his face.  
Something, then, lulled him into a calm that could only be conjured when you wake up at a time when nobody should be awake. He sighed again and closed his eyes, not quite in rest mode but floating in the limbo between wakefulness and what could only be described as android sleep. His limbs were heavy and sluggish from prolonged stillness and his mind was slowed. He had no LED, but he knew that if it were there, the color would be a soft, comfortable, white-ish blue.  
He detected no woken androids when he instinctively did a once-over scan of the building, so he knew that it was either very late, or very early. So why was he awake?  
His query was answered when he saw, faintly, a missed call in the corner of his periphery. He reluctantly brought himself out of his lovely feeling of half-sleep and focused on who called. Hank Anderson. Markus narrowed his eyes at this and sat up a little further. Why would Hank be contacting him at- he checked his clock for the first time since he’d been awake- two forty-three in the morning? He was about to call the man back when he was startled by another call. Hank, again. What was so important that Hank Anderson would call him twice?  
Think, Markus. It was too early for his processors to pick up on the gravity of the situation until he was able to put the pieces together. Come on, man. You’re an RK- you could figure this out quicker than this.  
Hank didn’t care about anything. He only cared about himself, his dog, and-  
Connor.  
Markus’ eyebrows knitted together and he finally, after leaving Hank hanging for three long rings, picked up the phone.  
“Hello?” he greeted; his voice gravelly with sleep. He resisted the urge to clear his throat.  
“Yeah, hey, Markus?” Hank sounded anxious. Hank rarely was anxious. “We have a little bit of a situation over here.”  
That was informative. Markus had to keep from rolling his eyes at the human’s ‘beat around the bush’ way of speaking. “What is it? Is everything okay?”  
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, I think,” Hank answered, “but Connor hasn’t gone into that rest mode thing y’all androids do in a couple o’ days an’ his LED thingy is blarin’ red, and he’s not talkin’-”  
“And you called me? Wouldn’t Kara be a more appropriate choice than… well, me?”  
There was silence on the other line. And then, in a weak voice that Markus wasn’t accustomed to from the older man, “He trusts ya, Markus.”  
Suddenly and surprisingly to him, his thirium regulator whirred in his chest. It wasn’t of fluster, but any other emotion would be wrong to label it as. He sighed.  
“…I’ll be right over.”  
“Thank you.”  
And then the line went dead.  
Markus let his head thump once more onto the bed’s backboard and savored a couple more moments in the little world that he called his bedroom, then stood and dressed for a day that would, inevitably, be long.  
\---  
Cabs were few and far between in Detroit in the dead of night, so Markus deduced that it would take less time to walk. The snow crunched satisfyingly under his boots, leaving a soon-to-be obscured trail back to his home. The night was relatively clear, though slight flurries of snowflakes floated down upon his head and coated his beanie. He didn’t feel the cold as a human would- for them, it was uncomfortable and annoying- but he still felt it, anatomically speaking. His joints were stiffer, the synthetic skin coating his android body was chill to the touch. He would be glad to get into the warmth once he reached Hank’s house, but he was also content with being outside. He liked the cold. He liked the way it nipped at his skin, the way it dusted his cheeks and nose a slight blue with thirium, the comfort that layering brought him. He knew Connor was the same way, no matter how much the other android liked to deny he enjoyed much of anything.  
Markus felt his thoughts linger on Connor for a bit as he walked. The android, though now deviant and lucid as could be, was still machine-like in nature. He liked to put up a placid façade for most people- he would do as he was told and didn’t like to show any emotion other than contentedness. Markus knew that, ever since Connor deviated, he was prone to stress and bouts of anxiety, but he also knew that Hank had been able to help with that for the most part.  
So this call for help, for help from Markus in particular, was concerning. He wasn’t sure what state Connor would be in when he got there, he didn’t know how stressed the android would be, he didn’t know whether Connor was at risk for self-destructing. There were too many unknown variables for Markus to preconstruct anything readable. He hated going in blind.  
He exhaled, his breath coming in a visible puff from his lips. He smiled- he’d always liked when that happened. His scanners picked up something down the road- some light from windows in rows of dark ones. That must have been Hank’s house. He decided to jog the rest of the way to save time and slowed as he stepped up to ring the doorbell.  
Hank opened the door, and his face showed real relief. “Fuckin’ finally…” he muttered, though it didn’t seem hostile and didn’t seem directed at Markus in particular. He stepped aside to let the android through the doorframe. He looked around at the house he’d been in but once before and frowned when he could sense Connor’s anxiety levels from where he was.  
Stress Level- 78% ^  
“Is he in the living room?” Markus asked, making sure to keep his voice low as to not startle Connor any further. Hank nodded and Markus turned, stalking there with a purpose. Hank, on the other hand, made a beeline to the kitchen. He was stressed, too- he needed something to take the edge off.  
When Markus turned into the living room, he bristled at what he saw. Connor, in the Michigan State hoodie Markus had gifted him when he’d had no clothing other than his CyberLife suit, the hood pulled way over his head and blankets cocooning him as if to stop him from escaping. Even from where Markus was standing, across the room from the other android, he could see the bright glaring red circle of Connor’s LED throbbing from under the green fabric and reflecting off his eyes, glassy and staring. When Markus took another step into the room, Connor’s head shot up and he flinched back, looking at the other android with a wild gaze. Markus put up his hands to show him no harm.  
“Hey, Connor, what’s going on?”  
Stress Level- 82% ^  
Markus swore to himself. If he didn’t get Connor’s stress level down, the android could self-destruct, and nobody wanted that.  
“Don’t worry, it’s just me. I’m not gonna hurt you.”  
Connor opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but quickly clamped it shut again and looked down, averting his gaze from Markus’.  
Stress Level- 80% v  
Markus bit back a sigh at the sense of Connor’s stress go down. He chanced a couple steps toward him, and while Connor eyed him warily, he made no move to stop him.  
He sat down on the couch where Connor was sitting, but far away enough that they wouldn’t be able to touch without leaning forward. Connor’s eyes never left Markus’.  
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Markus repeated, “I’m just here to help you.”  
Connor didn’t respond, but his stress level went down a couple percentages. Markus kept close tabs on this so he could gauge what he was doing right and/or wrong.  
“I understand you haven’t wanted to speak about it…” Markus started, “but I’m here if you want to now.”  
Silence. Not even a change in the stress. Markus couldn’t bite back the sigh this time, but he gave Connor a slight smile. His caretaker programming stepped in and he remembered things that could potentially help someone down from a panic attack. At least, that was what Markus assumed Connor was experiencing. An android version of a panic attack. For some people, silence was needed. For others, a constant. Connor was definitely the latter. “I’ll talk if you don’t want to. Is that okay?”  
No answer, but nothing that told him he definitely shouldn’t. Connor’s eyes trained on him, followed every little twitch and movement, but Markus could see something akin to expectancy in them. So, he talked.  
Markus spoke about the weather, about the newest androids that had begun to live at New Jericho, about North and Josh and Simon, about the older androids who were so, so happy to finally see a generation of androids who never saw the slavery they were put through. He spoke about bickering he’d had to break up and the oldest androids’ shutdowns. He spoke about the humans, about the integration of the androids into human society. He spoke about himself, about his struggle with leadership. How he loved it and he couldn’t think of anything better than to be the leader of this wonderful movement, but how it was hard to keep it up all the time.  
Just as Markus had suspected, Connor was the type of person to need something to focus on to bring him down. The blaring red of his LED faded to a pensive, anxious yellow orange by the time Markus was done. His eyes were less wild, more humane, so to speak. As his stress levels lowered, Markus could see the exhaustion in Connor’s face. It became more evident with each passing minute, and though it was concerning it wasn’t surprising.  
After a while, Connor stood, blankets and all, and shuffled over to where Markus was seated at the end of the couch. He sat down right next to him but not quite touching, and looked down at the floor, troubled.  
“Do…” Markus began, “Do you wanna talk about it now?”  
Connor stayed silent a moment, but then he closed his eyes and screwed his face up in exasperation and weariness. He scooted over a little and unexpectantly leaned onto Markus’ shoulder, burying his face into it.  
“I still hear her,” Connor whispered after a beat of silence, his voice scratchy and raw. “Even now, after it’s over and after I made sure she was gone, I still hear her voice telling me what to do.”  
Markus knew who Connor was talking about. Amanda- the system designed to keep Connor from deviating. It didn’t work and haunted him until he could cut her out.  
"You're not who you were, Connor. You're not a machine- she can't control you anymore."  
Connor grimaced. "I know that. But I still... I still hear it and have the urge to... listen to her."  
Markus knew what Connor meant. Every time Amanda would say something about Markus, it would be something about his death. Markus knew that Connor wouldn't ever kill him, but there was still the inkling of fear. The single thorn in a bush full of clear roses. The Amanda.  
“I don’t wanna hurt anybody,” He sniffed, tears finally springing from his eyes. “I already killed so many people, innocent people, and I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”  
“I know,” Markus said, holding Connor close as the other tried not to cry. “I know."  
In the end, Connor ended up basically passing out on Markus, the rest mode time he’d been depriving himself of finally catching up to bite him in the ass. Markus, feeling quite tired as well, had also put himself into rest mode, leaning his head on the back of the soft couch, half-covered by Connor’s blankets, Sumo at their feet, already asleep.  
By that time, Hank had crept in, slightly buzzed but not drunk by any means, to see how everything was going. To say that Hank was relieved to see Connor asleep on Markus was an understatement. Kara had been right- Markus really was the only one who was able to get through to Connor.  
Hank turned off the lights and smiled, happy to see that Connor’s LED was once again a soft, comfortable, whirring white-ish blue.


End file.
